I don't fight the feeling
by rockinrye
Summary: Two months away at law school seems to be too much to handle. Santana misses Finn and schools a lot tougher than she expected; a seven hour drive doesn't seem like too much of a sacrifice if she can spend the weekend with him.


The familiar chime of the Skype incoming call alert takes her attention from the text nestled in her lap to the Macbook perched at the end of her bed. She can't even help the smile that spreads over her face when she sees that it's him. She's just fucking glad that he can't actually see her yet.

When Santana finally hits answer she's bent over a pillow on her knees trying to figure out how exactly she wants to take this call. She would've figured it out before answering but she didn't want to miss it and hear him whine about her ignoring him again.

(If she misses his call, she always calls back right after, but that doesn't stop him from frowning about it and asking, "You don't want to talk to me, babe?")

The first thing he sees is her mouth and cleavage. He lets out this little chuckle like he's embarrassed about whatever he's thinking as she leans back against her headboard and sets the laptop on her knees.

"Babe," He says grinning wide. She's straightened out her face so there's only the hint of a smile in her cheeks, but it's so evident in her eyes that he doesn't bother to tease her about it.

"Sup?" She asks as she picks up her remote to lower the volume on her forty-two-inch. He grins at her for a second before extolling about how much he misses her. She can't hold in her smile then. "I miss you too," she gushes.

She hates how me makes her feel squishy inside. She was never one of _those_ girls; the kind who get all hung on some guy who with a nice smile and sweet words. It took a miracle for her to let him call what they were doing _dating_. She's tough and hard, snarky and a little confrontational, but when it's just them it's sort of hard to play up that act – really hard, actually, because he always looks at her like he's just grateful he gets to experience her.

She isn't lying. She misses him like crazy and law school is a lot tougher than she imagined it would be. She's built for shit like this though. She's disciplined when she wants to be so her routine is set, but that doesn't really stop the material from being seriously difficult. In relation, undergrad was a breeze, but it feels really awesome to study law where people like Thurgood Marshall and her mother did.

The first five minutes of the call are spent on him catching her up on the football season. He sort of adores the shit out of her for actually understanding the game and having a favorite team and chugging beers with him when they're together to watch. He can thank Dr. Lopez for that. He really misses being able to look up and catch her in the sands.

He chastises her about not listening to him when she gasps about something happening on the TV. She rolls her eyes and mutters about him being a wuss and he threatens to hang up.

"Finn," she says, pleading, "I'm totes listening to you babe. I promise, but I'm also paying attention to the fact that JJ almost got killed by the fucking psycho UNSUB."

He just laughs because he thinks her Criminal Minds obsession is cute and she uses the f bomb like some kind of pro, which is actually hot to him. They're both silent for a while which happens quite often. Their Skype calls are more about comfort than a necessity to talk. His attention is on some Xbox game and hers is in the finale of the episode (though it should be on a book).

The next time he speaks it's in this low voice that makes her press her knees together. She hasn't had him inside her in two months, but honestly, she misses sleeping in his arms more than that. As soon as the thought crosses her mind she rolls her eyes at herself but he of course he thinks it's directed at him.

She's really becoming too soft for her own good because when he doesn't stop frowning she actually leans close to the screen and gives him a kiss. When she leans back he's smirking.

"I had this dream about you last night," he says.

"Yeah?"

He nods.

"Are you gonna tell me about it?"

"Do you want me to?"

She rolls her eyes, because, seriously, if he were anyone else she would've hung up on him ages ago. She really should be studying but they don't do this too often. He red-shirted freshmen year so he's still at OSU and she's been a 1L for two months and the distance isn't bad because of communication but sometimes she just wants to feel like they're together, just _being_.

When she doesn't say anything he takes that as license to continue.

"Well, we were on Skype and …" he starts.

She's really glad she's not some bashful chick. Shameless really suits her well and she's as close to being satisfied as possible when she gets off the call and has to wipe her fingers on the covers. She sleeps a little better and actually has a real dream about him, unlike the one she knows he totally made up on the call.

A week later he calls her while she's in the grocery store debating on whether or not she gives a damn about organic anything. She decides she doesn't and gets the cheaper mesclun mix for the salads she takes to campus with her.

He's telling her about how sore he is as she assaults the 10/$10 sale on pasta. It's her go-to dish; it's quick and easy and all she has to do is change the sauce, vegetables or meat and it's like a whole new experience.

"Your hands are like … magical," he says after complaining about how she's not around to give him a massage. She just nods like he can see her and scans her eyes over the cheeses. She definitely wants to make tacos this week so she tosses a bag of Mexican blend into her cart. She's sort of starving right now so it's hard to listen to him whine, however sweet.

"I really don't think I can survive until Thanksgiving without you," he admits and she smiles and pays a little more attention to the convo. She doesn't think she can either.

It's gotten to the point where she's both unbearably lonely and way too horny for her own good.

She lives by herself. She refused to do the roommate thing again after spending her first two years of undergrad with loonies and not having Rachel here to be the only person she can sort of tolerate.

She's also not opposed to taking care of her own need, but she really, really needs Finn inside of her. A California king seemed like a good idea at first, but now it just seems to be fucking taunting her.

She hasn't gone this long without sex ever and she's pretty much reminded why when she wakes up with the need to slip her hand between her legs practically every morning. It's seriously getting ridiculous. She's just glad she can't physically have morning wood.

After class a week later – Con Law, which will seriously be the death of her – she's flipping through her planner and realizes she doesn't have any ridiculously long papers or case studies due until the end of next week. She's pretty sure this will be the first and only time.

She's also not working, because her dad and mom want her focused only on her JD, so she has what seems to be the only free weekend that isn't attached to a holiday at her disposal in three days.

She decides that she's driving to Ohio to see Finn, because she really does miss him. She needs to be with him in more ways than one and a seven-hour drive doesn't seem like too big a sacrifice. She's made it before with her Dad when she moved to DC, but she's pretty sure she can handle it on her own. She jots down a list of things she needs to take care of on a purple post it and sticks it inside her planner on the page for tomorrow.

After an hour of Zumba and an intense shower, she settles in front of her laptop and starts searching through iTunes for music she likes to drive to. She ends up with a ninety-nine-song playlist titled "Road Trippin." She laughs at herself for the title and then transfers it to her iPhone. She finds herself lost in a game of Fruit Ninja a few minutes later, totally off routine.

When she finally bests her high score she plugs her phone back up and checks her email. There's one from Rachel giving her the most detailed update on her life humanly possible filled with links to photo albums and YouTube videos of the songs she's practicing. There's also a scan of an autograph from some Broadway person Santana doesn't care about. She gets halfway through the email and two YouTube videos in when she gives up. This is why she tries to steer clear of the Internet. She always ends up off task.

She ends up laughing for ten minutes straight at the fact that a) Puck sent her an email and b) It's an e-card. It's of a T-Rex playing a guitar and simply says, "I miss you, bitch. Return my phone calls. – Puckasaurus (get it?)".

She tells herself that she'll call him tomorrow and closes the lid on her computer. She hops off her sofa and heads to her room in search of the Ralph Lauren duffle bag she stole from her father when he helped her move in. It's navy blue and green with brown leather ends and she loves it because it fits just the right amount of stuff and prevents her from over packing. She finds it in the back of her closet and throws it on her bed. She's really trying to get everything done early because the rest of her week is filled with way too much class and far too little free time. She scoops up the remote to her iPod dock and turns on The Archandroid.

She finishes packing thirty minutes later and tucks the bag in the corner behind her bedroom door. She folds a pair Victoria Secret PINK sweats and a Howard Law sweatshirt on top of the bag to wear when she drives up.

Ten minutes later she's huddled over the biggest book ever wracking her brain trying to understand torts.

She plans to leave Friday right after her 4:30 Civil Procedures class, but her professor teaches a half-hour overtime and she can't afford to miss anything he's saying because their midterm is in two weeks.

His TA wants to speak with her after class about one of her papers. It ends up being a good thing; they like her work and want her to assist with some research. It'll be a paid gig and she's definitely not against extra money, but the convo puts her way behind so she's not really on the road (she had to stop and get a Slushie, it's road trip tradition) until nearly 6:30.

Traffic is pretty much fucking ridiculous and the only thing that keeps her from flipping a wig is the fact that her playlist is really, really good – relaxing enough to keep her at ease but upbeat enough to keep her awake.

She hasn't told Finn she's coming, because she wants to surprise him. She knows he's in town for the weekend. They have a home game tomorrow. The trip will be pretty short. She has to leave midday on Sunday if she wants to be back in time and a good portion of the time they can spend together will be cut out by the time he has to spend at the game, but it'll be enough because it's better than nothing.

By 8:30 the traffic has evened out and she's deep into Maryland. She's got her playlist paused and Rachel and Puck are on speakerphone. They're trying really hard to hide the fact that they're flirting, but Santana pretty much wrote that book so she's exasperated with their efforts.

"Seriously," she says before taking a sip of the bottle of Fiji water that's been nestled between her thighs, "Your non-flirting is grosser than your flirting. Please just go fuck so we can all have a better life."

Puck laughs, really loud, and Rachel is silent for the first time in twenty-two years. Santana just shakes her head like they can see her and focuses on the road so she doesn't miss her exit. She's not really tired, but she's bored of listening to music.

When Rachel's finally able to speak again the three of them play twenty questions and end up asking and answering the most ridiculous shit she's heard in a while. She realizes she really misses them too and if she could she'd hop a forty-minute flight up to New York sometime to see the two of them. She's really not used to this missing people thing, but she realizes she's grown up a lot since she's actually able to admit it.

The twentieth question falls on her so she asks Puck what's the craziest thing he's ever fantasized about. They have sex talk all the time so it's no big deal, but she's cracking up ten seconds later when he says that it's a threesome with her and Rachel. Rachel gasps and she can almost see her red face through the phone. She can't lie, in undergrad, before Finn, she would've totally been down for it.

They entertain her well into the ten o'clock hour and she's starting to feel the burden of her drive. The Lexus her dad bought her as a graduation gift drives smooth and is beastly in autopilot, but she's still tired of sitting. She tells Puck and Rachel she'll talk to them again some time next week, but it's "their fucking turn to call her."

When she spots a road sign that says there's a McDonald's a mile from the next exit she takes it. She wants an iced coffee and she's sort of secretly in love with McNuggets and sweet and sour sauce.

She rolls into Columbus a little after one and she's tired out of her mind. She just wants to see Finn and climb into his bed. She doesn't even want to have sex tonight, just go to sleep and wake up with his arm pulling her closer and his hand on her stomach. They can fuck in the morning.

She's thinking about the way his nose tickles her neck when she pulls into his apartment complex – seriously, she might be whipped. She parks in the space that seems to always be open for her and climbs out, stretching so hard her entire abdomen is exposed even though her sweatshirt is two sizes too big.

She grabs her duffle out the backseat and almost forgets her phone from being so tired. She goes back to get it and groans about him living upstairs instead of down as she tackles the flight of steps in front of her.

She still has a key so she lets herself in, but it doesn't take her long to realize that he's not home and neither is his roommate.

"What the fuck?" She says out loud as she drops her bag next to the couch and goes into his kitchen to get a glass of water and scam on whatever snacks he has. She's always ridiculously hungry after traveling, but, of course, his refrigerator is next to bear save for an empty pizza box and beer.

She's actually really annoyed that he's not here. He usually rests up the day before the game. She grabs a Corona, because now her mind is wandering to places it shouldn't be, and settles on the couch.

She really thinks she might kill him when she sees him. She really hates how he has control of her emotions like this. She was ecstatic like twenty minutes ago and now she feels like she might blow a gasket.

She falls asleep with her head tucked into the arm of his couch and her legs drawn up close to her body, the sound of the TV humming light in the background.

"Dude!"

Finn's voice is what wakes her up from the heavy sleep, she sits up and rubbing her eyes and frowns instantly because she knows that laughter. He's wasted.

As if she wasn't already annoyed.

"Bro," she hears his roommate say, "I think that's Santana on the couch." He's obviously wasted too. She normally likes Justin, but right now she just wants to smack both of them. She's still incredibly tired and their both so fucking loud it's ridiculous. There's also the fact that four other guys, who she knows to be his teammates, roll in right behind them carrying a large, but mostly empty, bottle of Velicoff. Fucking Velicoff.

"Santana? Dude, she's in fucking DC," he says the words slurring together a little bitterly like the sheer thought of her being that far pisses him off. She sort of wants to smile at his indignation but she doesn't. He pulls off his coat and literally tosses it at the rack. It drops to the floor inches away and she rolls her eyes getting up from her seat on the couch.

"Bro," Justin says hitting Finn on the arm, "It _is_ her. I _told_ you."

When his eyes finally settle on her he immediately grins a dopey closed mouth grin. It would be really cute if she weren't on the last fuck she had to give. Instead, it actually pisses her off.

"Babe," he says closing the space between them and looping his fingers into the strings on her sweats, "You're not in DC," he adds. He tugs her close and moves to kiss her lips, but she really doesn't even want to kiss him right now. She turns her head and his lips land sloppily on her cheek. He groans and starts talking about something that she's not even paying attention to because she can barely hear him over the raucous of the other five people in the house. She just wants to go to bed.

He's kind of obnoxious when he gets this drunk especially when it's off cheap ass Vodka. He gets both whiney and loud and almost always gets into a juvenile argument with Justin over shit like cereal, which is happening right now. Her eyes widen in annoyed surprise, because seriously, this can't get anymore frustrating.

"You need to lie down," she says when she watches him stumble for the tenth time.

"I'm not tired, San," he says like he's five. "You can't make me."

She sneers at him, which she hasn't done since before they were dating, and he recoils a little and then goes a little green in the face. She has to push him toward the bathroom to keep him from puking on his floor. She wishes she were in DC right now, because this isn't the Finn she was looking forward to seeing.

He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand when he's finally upright again and she fights the instinct to rub his back in slow circles. Instead, she grabs the toothbrush she knows is his and puts it in his hand.

"Brush," she says simply.

He's dropped two squeezes of toothpaste in the sink when she snatches it from him and squeezes it easily onto the bristles. She turns on the water, holds it under the stream and passes it to him. He grins again and takes it. Finn stares at her while he brushes and she just rolls her eyes.

It doesn't deter him because he grins through the entire affair and only looks away to rinse his mouth. He mutters a thanks and stumbles out the bathroom behind her. His head is starting to hurt so he grimaces. She tells him to go lie down again and he listens.

She heads to the kitchen still fuming and grabs the bottle of blue Gatorade on the door of the refrigerator. She stands on her tiptoes to reach the ibuprofen in his cabinet and hands it all to him when she walks in the room. He takes it. It takes him a moment to get both bottles open but he's eventually successful.

She's busying herself with looking for her sleep clothes in her duffle. She's mad herself for accidentally putting them all the way at the bottom and mad at Finn for being drunk off his ass and not here when she first arrived. She feels like she is at least ten levels of mad and she only gets more annoyed when she sees that he's struggling to get out of his own clothes.

She tosses her pajamas on the bed and goes over to give him a hand. She pushes his shoulders so he falls into a sitting position on the edge of the bed and grabs the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head. She's mad at herself for noticing the good conditioning has done his upper body. He smirks at her like he knows exactly what she's thinking and she rolls her eyes for what has to be the fiftieth time tonight.

"Just no," she says, when his smirk widens as she deftly unbuckles his pants with one hand and pulls them down in the next motion. He lifts up to let her ease them down his thighs. She lets him kick them off his own ankles. His eyes are hovering between opened and close and she just lets out a heavy sigh, "Go to sleep."

She grabs her pajamas and a towel from his closet and goes to take a shower her hair whipping behind her when she leaves, because she feels icky from the drive and she needs the relaxation. When she comes back into the room twenty minutes later he's passed out, lying on his back on top of the covers, his legs hanging off the edge. He never moved from where she left him.

It's kind of cute the way he's sleeping, one of his hands resting on his chest; the other sprawled above his head looking massive. She's still at like a six in annoyance so she ends up frowning at Finn before she climbs into bed and makes herself comfortable under the covers on her side. She dozes off in no time, still peeved, but the familiarity of Finn's breathing lulls her.

When she wakes up there's a large hand on her stomach and a nose tickling her neck. His breath ghosts across her shoulder and she shudders. She can't help the smile that tugs at the corners of her mouth. She goes back to sleep just because she likes the feeling.

She remembers when she didn't.

When she wakes for the second time it's because that hand is now heavy on her shoulder and the nose is nowhere to be found.

"San?" He asks even though he's looking dead at her. She nods sleepily, her eyes still mostly closed. He rubs a hand over his own eyes and leans down to kiss her forehead. "What are you doing here?" He asks when he pulls back. He obviously doesn't remember anything about last night.

"Came to surprise you," she says shutting her eyes again. She's still tired and the sun coming through his window is threatening to keep her from falling back asleep.

"Yeah?" She nods a small smile playing on her lips.

"When did you get here?"

"One."

"Oh. I don't remember letting you in."

"You didn't. You weren't here."

His hand moves to rub at his temple. He's clearly confused. She just shakes her head, her hand rubbing her forehead.

"You came in at around three completely wasted with Justin and the guys. You were fucking obnoxious and you puked and passed out at the end of the bed," she says simply. There's no vehemence in her voice. She's just stating the facts.

"Really? Sorry," he says because he knows if he was drunk enough not to remember, he probably drove her crazy.

"It's fine," she says because now that she's rested it really is. That doesn't stop her from slugging him in the shoulder for good measure. He smiles toothlessly and rubs at the spot on his shoulder.

"I love you."

"Love you too," she says before pulling him down to kiss her.

She's been waiting for his lips for what seems too long.

They don't have sex because he has to get the stadium for the game a half hour after they're awake. She's still a little tired, but she promises to be on time for the game. He grins at her again as he's about to walk out the door and double's back to pin her against the wall with his tongue licking at her mouth and his hand creeping up her shirt. She pushes him away reluctantly because she doesn't need him getting in trouble on her account, but it's the hardest thing she's done in months, which includes writing a fifty-page brief.

She eats a bowl of his Cap'n Crunch Berries and then gets dressed. She pulls on a pair of dark skinny jeans and a grey V-neck that she paid way too much for at Urban Outfitters.

Before she leaves she pulls on her favorite leather jacket and grabs her keys. Getting to campus doesn't take long from Finn's apartment so she files into the stadium fifteen minutes later and sits with fellow alum to cheer Finn on.

The game's good. It stays close until the last quarter and Finn runs for the touchdown that puts them over and throws for another. She waits for him while chatting with a girl she graduated with and his grin is wide when he sees her. He's showered, she can tell because his hair looks damp, and he smells like fresh sheets and body wash when he tugs her over by the belt loops nearest the button on her jeans and kisses her.

"God, I'm glad you're here," he says. The mattress curls against the back of her knees and she falls back gently, smiling. He pulls his shirt over his head and drops it to the floor. "You should surprise me more often."

He comes down to kiss her hungrily, one hand inching up her shirt, the other tangling into her hair. Her fingers splay against the fine hairs at the base of his neck as his knee nudges her legs open and he presses his thigh against her. She gasps into his mouth and she feels him smile against her. God, she missed this.

Somehow he manages to kiss her somewhere the entire time he's undressing her. When his lips leave her mouth to take off her shirt they find her stomach and he kisses the inside of her wrist when her arms rise for him to bring the straps of her bra down her arms.

He nudges her up the bed a little so her heads on the pillows and brings his mouth back to hers. He kisses her until she's breathless and her lips are swollen and she doesn't have any protests even if there is an ache between her legs that he's not yet taking care of. She really loves kissing him because he does it like he needs to be attached to her mouth, to share her air to survive.

He drags an open mouth along her jaw and licks at the space behind her ear; his hand splayed over her stomach when she moans at the sensation. He trails his kisses lower and bites down on her collarbone. He licks a stripe from her sternum to her belly button and she shivers.

Sometimes the reactions he gets out of her makes him want to pump his fist, but he keeps his composure and looks at her, looking down at him through her lashes and places a soft kiss right below her navel before he spreads her legs with gentle force.

After the second time she shatters on his tongue she pulls him up by the shoulders and kisses him deep, a low moan coming from her throat when she tastes herself. His hand traces lazy circles on her clit and her back arches.

"Inside," she breathes against his ear. Her hands reach to shove his boxers down his thighs and he kicks them away when they reach his ankles. He leans over to grab a condom from his dresser but she grabs his wrist and shakes her head, "I want to feel all of you."

"You sure?" He asks because they've never done that before and for good reason. They really can't have a kid right now, but she reminds him that she keeps up with her pill and nearly begs him to oblige her.

It's slow and deep and every nerve in her body seems to be alive. She comes once just from a few well angled strokes and feels like she's tumbling over the edge in a million little pieces. He strokes her through her orgasm, his mouth covering hers to swallow the cry she lets out and fuck, she's going to be so sad to leave. It's never felt this good before and when she breaks the second time with him right behind her she tells him that and kisses an "I love you" into his shoulder before her teeth sink in, a reaction to the final snap of his hips.

She lets out a soft giggle when he collapses on top of her, his face in the crook of her neck. He says he loves her three times before his hand curves around her waist and he presses a kiss to her temple.

When they wake up he drives her to the grocery store to buy stuff so she can cook. They settle on Campanelle pasta with red sauce, peppers and chicken and a box of Texas toast.

When she leans over to kiss him in the car he decides he isn't starting the engine until she's come apart on his fingers. She protests, for a moment, but for as silly as his threat is, it's not the worst idea.

"One piece or two?" She asks holding his plate out of the kitchen. He's sitting on the couch with a beer in his hand searching for the Criminal Minds episode he knows is on, but changes his mind when he spots Phineas and Ferb. It's kind of their show and it rarely comes on anymore so he has to forego his original plan.

"Two," he says easily.

They play MJ Experience on the Kinect after they eat, because she gripes about missing her work out and he just likes seeing her be silly and he doesn't mind that she calls him Finndestructive when he knocks a plate off the coffee table because she says it so sweetly (accidentally, she really meant to be snarky but she keeps failing around him).

She wakes up at two am wrapped in his arms, the muscles in her thighs sore. She smiles contentedly because they've covered nearly every possible way to have sex in the shortest amount of time possible.

After the first time she needs him to just fuck her so he does, against the wall until her back is sore and her hair is mussed. When he eases her down she tells him she wants him to take her from the back when he's ready and he mumbles against her lips about her being insatiable, but an hour later he has a fist full of hair and a palm on her hip. They only thing she hasn't done is blow him, but she's saving that for the morning while he eats his waffles.

She's seriously tired and a whole lot satisfied, but mostly, stupidly in love.

She has to leave at noon.

She wakes up at nine to find that Finn isn't in bed. She sits up and winces a little, because seriously, they might've been too ambitious. She waits a moment before finally getting up shaking her head at herself and Finn.

She finds him in the kitchen his body bent over a bowl that she's pretty sure is holding waffle mix. She kisses his neck and runs a hand through his hair and he looks back at her smiling brightly before pointing to the pot of coffee has on.

"Morning babe." He drops the bowl on the counter and turns to her. He grabs her waist and lifts her easily, sitting her right next to the mix and taking up guard in the space between her legs. They share lazy kisses before he goes back to stirring as she pours herself a cup of coffee, no cream with a heaping spoonful of sugar.

She purposefully finishes her breakfast before him and he quirks his eyebrow in confusion, because she usually doesn't eat fast. She just smirks at him and slides out of her own chair, kneeling before him. He'll never be able to eat waffles again without blushing.

When it's time to go she can barely stand the idea of it. She doesn't want to leave and she pouts as he carries her bag over his shoulder and holds her hand, his thumb circling the skin on the top of her hand. He presses her back to the driver's side door and kisses her deep with the need that she loves.

She kisses his lips again once he pulls back and keeps them pressed together when she's telling him that she doesn't want to be away from him because when she's away she misses him too much. He loves seeing her vulnerable like this, because even if she's felt like this the entire time she's not often vocal.

"November isn't that far off," he says even though it kind of is. He wrinkles his forehead as it's pressed against hers and fights a grin when he sees that she might actually cry.

She doesn't, because that really is just too much. She might be becoming one of _those_ girls, but she has her limits. And she's not about to fucking cry, even though the sting in her eyes tells her different.

She kisses him one last time and shifts so she can get into the car. He taps the roof of her car and dips his head into her rolled down window.

"I love you."

"I love you more," she says poking his cheek.

He waves at her grinning as her Lexus eases out of its parking space, a hand in his pocket curling around a small blue box. He thinks about the plane ticket he purchased for three weekends from now and shakes his head because she's bested him again. He's pretty sure his surprise visit might trump hers though, but he goes to Google and types "unique proposals" to get an extra leg up anyway.


End file.
